The cold bites into my exposed skin as I run. I hear my breath coming out in wheezing gusts. My bare feet pound and scrape through the snow. Exhaustion feasts on my muscles and creeps into my bones. But I cannot stop running. Oh no, I cannot stop. Wildly I flee through this silent forest which seems to slowly close in around me.
I hear a snap. I jerk my head around, but all I see is a scarlet trail stretching out behind me. Blood. Blood from my uncovered feet. It garishly stains the white ground behind me.
I must keep running. I must. I must. I must.
But the frigid air stabs into my lungs, and they refuse to breath. And then my legs give out. I fall; the world tipping and lurching around me. The edges of my vision begin to blacken, panic gripping my brain and paralyzing my arms and legs. There, with the snow biting into my skin, I lie, crumpled like a broken doll. The trees surrounding me are as silent and still as death, as if they share my terror.
I try to control my breathing. And I try to listen to my surroundings over the swelling fear filling my chest. But it's useless. I don't even know why I try. My pursuer is as soundless as the still air around me. I would never hear him coming.
My body shudders as I try to get back on my feet. My eyes rake the area for somewhere, anywhere to hide. Behind me is a fallen tree. If I can get to it, I can try hiding behind it. I drag myself forward, my bloody feet leaving traces in the snow behind me. It's no use. I can't hide from him. Not with this trail of blood I'm leaving.
Again the world tips and I fall, my head cracking into a tree root rising above the snow. Pain like white hot fire flares through my skull and spots blossom all over my vision. Panic strips me down till I'm nothing. I cannot think and I cannot breath. I force my eyes shut. My heart is pounding, throbbing against my ribs. Almost as if it knows that these beats will be its last. I force myself inhale and then exhale. I have to calm myself down.
I start to feel an unnatural prickling at the back of my neck. My eyes blink open. And there he is. His decaying body a foot away from me, skin rotting away to reveal grey bloodless flesh. His lipless mouth wears a fixed grin. A scream wrenches from my constricting throat. His head twists slowly downwards and his black pupil-less eyes fix on me.
In his hand he holds a bloodied ax. His grinning mouth begins to stretch open and from it writhes a single, flesh colored maggot. He bends down towards me and the stench from his dead carcass suffocates me.
I cannot move. Horror paralyzes me. The maggot falls from his face down onto my neck. A shrieking sob rips itself from my chest, throbbing through my skull and reverberating through the dead silence of the forest.
And then I open my eyes. And I'm in my bedroom, lying on my bed. I feverishly blink my eyes in disbelief and relief. My hand goes straight to my neck, making sure there's nothing there. Relief fills me as I realize that it was all just a terrible dream. I breathe in and out and in and out, trying to shake off my nightmare. It was so real. So vivid. My hand reaches out to my lamp beside my bed and I flick it on.
And there at the foot of my bed he stands. His grin still fixed on his face.